Pick Up Lines
by WhiteTeaLeaf
Summary: Add a god of mischief, an indignant human and boredom. Mix well. Be prepared for an explosion of pick up lines. Avengers 1 Verse.


You had been working for S.H.I.E.L.D. for several years now, and completed more than a handful of missions on your own. You had cold-bloodedly slaughtered the heads of enemy organizations, calmly defused time bombs mere seconds away from explosion, and even escaped from dilapidated buildings just a hair's-breadth away from crumbling into rubble and brick dust. They were quick, uncomplicated, tasks easily forgotten and lost. They were no easy feat to be sure, but none of them had fazed you or made you question your decision to become an agent.

That is, until now.

You leaned against the metal railing directly opposite the glass cage that was imprisoning a certain god of mischief, the painful tendrils of a headache already beginning to worm its way into your temples. You scowled at the lithe figure lounging leisurely against the barrier, his mouth curled upwards in an amused smirk. Oblivious to your murderous thoughts, Loki merely tilted his head to the side, emerald eyes glimmering with playfulness.

"Why Agent (l/n)," he purred silkily. "What an honour it is for me to be bestowed the gratifying presence of the most beautiful agent working in this pathetic sham. Are you here to entertain me my sweet, or is it the other way round?"

A feral growl sounded deep in your throat and you tightened your grip around the pistol nestling snugly in your waistband. "Nice try Loki," you sneered, your upper lip twisting into a disgusted grimace. "But I'm here to make sure you don't pull one of your pranks again, not to play your little games. Now sit down and be a good little boy."

But the raven-haired god only smiled wider in response. "Oh (y/n)", he replied fondly, a hint of sadistic roguery in his voice. "Don't you know? You can't order me around. I do what I want, and that's you."

It took you a few seconds to register the meaning of his words, the initial shock gradually fading away to outraged indignation.

"Y-You bastard!" The words flew out of your mouth before you knew what you were saying, and you struggled to fight down the blush steadily creeping its way up your neck. How dare he? You've heard rumours about him, of course, blood-chilling, nail-bitingly terrifying rumours of how he was able to kill a huge crowd of people without so much as blinking an eye, but none of the rumours included how… well, how _lecherous_ he was.

Loki, to his credit, didn't even bat an eyelash at your discomfort. Quirking an eyebrow, he flashed you that trademark devilish smile of his. "Beautiful voice darling," he grinned. "But it'll sound better screaming my name."

That one sentence alone caused blood to rush to your cheeks in a hot tidal wave of squirming embarrassment and you clenched your suddenly sweaty fists, arms rigid by your side. You glared at the smirking god balefully, face warm with radiating heat. "So that's how you get your kicks?" you scowled, trying to rile him. "Practising corny pickup lines on girls once you've lost the battle with humanity?"

But Loki didn't seem affected in the slightest. If anything, his grin grew even wider. "Foolish mortal," he chuckled huskily. "I haven't lost any battles. Even now, I can still think of at least _one_ version of this in which I come out on top."

Almost instinctively, the teasing words sent a flood of suggestive imagery through your treacherous mind, and you nearly staggered back in an odd mix of embarrassment and shock. Goddammit, you thought grudgingly, shaking your head quickly like a wet dog trying to dry itself. You hate to admit it, but that guy was smoother than an ice slick. Folding your arms over your chest, you cleared your throat and gave one last ditch attempt to regain your composure, even though your overheated brain was already screaming in protest, trying to find a witty comeback.

"S-stupid god," you scoffed clumsily. "You're just an arrogant asshole dressed in a ridiculous outfit. I mean, look at you! Shoulder pads and a long cloak? Seriously?"

Tugging at said cloak, the god of mischief widened his mesmerising eyes in mock astonishment. "Ridiculous, dear heart?" he asked in feigned surprise. "There's absolutely nothing ridiculous about my fashion sense, I assure you. Leather and metal, that's how we do it in Asgard."

The last thread of your sanity finally snapped.

"Oh for the love of-!" Tottering your way to the barrier on wobbly legs, you slapped an angry palm against the transparent material, the words hissing from your clenched teeth in an ill-formed blunder. "Stop harassing me, you bastard! Why can't you just shut up and leave me alone?"

For a moment, said bastard simply stood back and basked in the glorious attention of your embarrassed fury, an alluring smile blooming across his face. Inching slowly towards the barrier, he raised his hand languidly, pressing it to the glass long finger by finger, until it was a perfect mirror image of yours. His eyes, the colour of jewelled grass, seemed to glow and shimmer with life, holding you in their captive gaze and sending delightful shivers of pleasure down your spine. You couldn't look away. Your breath caught in your chest, and for a split second, you forgot how to breathe properly. The sexual tension that had been accumulating bit by bit was being broken down rapidly, sending electric sparks flying through the room like bright fireworks. Thank god for this barrier, you thought numbly, already lost in the emerald sea of his irises. If the barrier wasn't there, your face would've been bare inches away from his, close enough to kiss.

After what seemed like an eternity, Loki finally broke the spell with that smooth, silken baritone of his, words pouring out of his mouth in a soft murmur, flush with the promise of honeyed secrets and sensual caresses. Despite yourself, you listened in vain, desperate to catch wind of whatever gems of wisdom were about to leave his lips. He whispered it once more, the syllables caught in the delicate pearl of your ear.

"Oh dearest," he murmured with lazy nonchalance. "I'm called silver-tongued for a reason, you know. More than one reason, actually. Would you like me to demonstrate it on you?"

"..."

He burst into great peals of laughter as you pounded ineffectively on the barrier with murderous rage, unleashing your frustration with your fists.

"Loki Laufeyson!" You screamed in the high-pitched tones of a demented banshee. "I swear, I'll beat the ever-loving _shit_ out of you one day!"

The god of mischief bowed smartly. "I genuinely look forward to that, Agent (l/n)", he replied with amused candor, his formerly lust-filled eyes twinkling with merry laughter. "Now if you'll excuse me, it's time for my beauty sleep. See you in my dreams, my sweet."

You were still fuming and cursing when he drifted off, that annoyingly beguiling smirk lingering on his face.

~Extended Ending~

The next morning, Loki awoke to the sight of you staring relentlessly at him, chin resting on the curled palm of your hand. Lips curling into his characteristic grin, he raised his arms above his head in a long, supine stretch, the memory of last night still fresh in his mind.

"Good morning darling," he purred lusciously, flashing a thin silver of teeth in a seductive chuckle. "Was the view too distracting for you to sleep, my love?"

Deadpanned, you delivered the first line that came to your mind.

"Distracting? Nah. I guess you could say I was up all night to get Loki."

Two could play at the game, especially if you had at least eight hours to think of a witty comeback.


End file.
